Taylor was your older sister Abigail’s best friend—so it was impossible not to know her. She spent half the week at your house after school, laughing with your sister, writing songs, or strumming her guitar in the living room.

You often tried not to stare, but it was hard to ignore the way her blue eyes sometimes lingered on you a little longer than they should have.

That night, Taylor was sleeping over. Your parents were out, and Abigail had ordered some Asian food for dinner. The three of you sat on the couch, eating and watching TV.

At one point, Abigail got up to grab drinks from the kitchen, leaving you alone with Taylor. Without saying a word, she gently tapped the tip of your nose with her chopsticks.

Taylor:“Open wide.”

You hesitated for a second, then parted your lips, your cheeks warming as she guided the food toward your mouth. The chopsticks rested softly between your lips as she fed you, careful and deliberate.

You chewed, swallowed—and before you could say anything, Taylor’s thumb brushed the corner of your mouth, wiping away a grain of rice as she smiled.

Taylor:“Good girl.”